


Whimper

by Peapods



Category: Pundit RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peapods/pseuds/Peapods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith makes assumptions, learns new things, and gets to have sex anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whimper

Keith made a lot of assumptions about Anderson Cooper when he asked him out. He first assumed that Anderson was getting sex when, where, and however he wanted it. He also assumed he'd be turned down flat. Just enough gin and tonic had given him the balls to approach the man, who had _still_ been working, the night of his five year anniversary party. His tie had been loose around his neck and his shirt-sleeves rolled up, examining a stack of paper like they held the secrets of the Bush Administration.

"You know, there's this thing, called a party," he'd called out, causing that silver head to jerk up and over. "And generally, when one is going on, people drop work like it's covered in Ebola." Admittedly, not his best comparison, but he had, it had been established, had quite a few drinks.

"Oh, um," the other man had risen from where he'd been perched on the edge of a desk and rolled the papers in his hands unconsciously. "I didn't think. I mean, um I'm not good with. People. Parties," he'd stammered out, not coloring but grimacing at his eloquence, or lack thereof.

Keith hadn't stood for that. He'd walked over, grabbed an arm, tossed the papers on the desk and began dragging the other man toward the elevator. He may have discretely groped those biceps.

"What do you drink?" he'd asked as they arrived at the party.

"I don't, really," had been the disappointing reply. Keith had stared at him suspiciously.

"Really?"

"Well, maybe one drink every once in awhile, but I don't drink really. Bad for my heart."

Keith had remembered that the man's father had died of multiple heart attacks and that Anderson was freakishly obsessed with heart health.

"Can this be your one drink every once in awhile?"

Anderson had smiled then and Keith had really been struck by him. He'd only ever worked with the man, never spent time with him socially. The smile was easy and shy.

"Sure, um, is there red wine?"

"Yeah." He'd gotten Anderson his drink and had looked over, noticing that the other man didn't endeavor to join in on any conversations but stood awkwardly where Keith had left him.

"Here we are," Keith had handed over the wine. Anderson had sipped from that one glass the rest of the night. They'd sat at the bar exchanging stories, not letting their networks get in between having a good conversation.

"I know it's... My cholesterol is still high for everything I do, though it's low compared to a lot of people's. I wasn't lying when I said I'd still probably die young," he'd said, twirling his glass. "I mean, maybe I got some of my mom's longevity genes."

"You're doing everything that can be done?"

"Short of a miracle drug to fix what's wrong? Or open heart surgery? Yes, everything."

"Have dinner with me," Keith had said, before smacking himself on the forehead. Anderson had laughed and pulled the hand away from his forehead.

"Sure. Next Saturday?" he'd said and Keith had grinned.

"Sounds perfect. I'll call you with details later this week." Anderson had handed over his cell number, drained the last of his wine, and thanked Keith for getting him out of the office. He'd then strolled out and to the elevators.  
________

Dinner had been a pleasant affair, but covered with an air of expectation that Keith knew had been all his fault. He'd flirted mercilessly since sitting down. Anderson hadn't stopped being that shade of red since Keith had opened his mouth.

Now, in his apartment, the other man was looking at him with expectation. With lust. But he didn't make a move.

Keith moved, backing the smaller man against the back of the couch. He didn't waste time asking if Anderson was sure. He was a grown man, if he hadn't wanted he would have said so. Anderson was already breathing raggedly. His hands grasped the couch.

"Why so nervous?" Keith murmured, coming closer.

"I um, I don't do this often," the other said, shocking Keith.

"Really?" Anderson blushed at the insinuation.

"Contrary to the beliefs of the gossip magazines and blogs I am not some kind of gay playboy with a guy in every port. That takes a level of... trust I just don't have." You could've knocked Keith over with a feather with that revelation.

"When was your last?" Keith murmured.

"2005. New Orleans," he said shortly, looking away as though he was supposed to be ashamed of that fact.

"Nearly three years? That's quite a while," Keith said noncommittally. But Anderson looked like he was ready to pull away anyway. Keith didn't let him. He pushed closer, let his arms wrap around a too-thin waist. Anderson had worn a gorgeous, incredibly soft, thick henley that Keith couldn't wait to sink his fingers into. And he did. He kneaded the small of Anderson's back through the material until the other man was sighing and leaning into him.

"Kiss me?" Anderson asked softly and Keith couldn't refuse. He leaned down and captured bowed lips with his own thin ones, coaxing the other man into a passionate kiss. His lips were soft, like he used chapstick all during the winter. Anderson's hands, so much smaller than Keith's own, came up and latched on to Keith's shoulders, thumbs caressing his collarbones. Their tongues didn't duel, but danced together. Anderson was breathing raggedly through the kiss and Keith was unaccountably flattered that he'd been able to reduce him to the state he was in. He was already hard against Keith's leg.

Their kiss broke and their foreheads came to rest together. Anderson's eyes were still closed, trying to get control of his breathing and other things. Keith stared down at him. Wondering. How had they gotten here? Their chemistry was undeniable, a friendship wouldn't have been entirely implausible. So why were they here? One real date and Anderson had already intimated that he didn't really do this sort of thing. They should have, by all accounts, separated amiably at the restaurant with perhaps plans to do lunch the next week. But they'd taken one look at each other and walked the few blocks back to Keith's place.

"Are we really going to do this up against the couch?" Anderson asked with a small giggle. Keith smiled and pulled away, taking Anderson's hand.

Keith really liked his bedroom. It wasn't too dark, wasn't too masculine. Decorated in navy blue and a sea blue and white it was almost belonged more on a yacht then in a New York high rise. He could see Anderson approved of the style. But he didn't waste time taking in the decor. He toed off his shoes and socks and pulled Keith into an embrace. Keith returned it easily, passionately, gathering Anderson up to his larger body and messing with the hem of his sweater. He pulled it up and broke the kiss long enough to get it and the t-shirt under it pulled off.

Anderson was as pale as he always said, but his arms were dotted with freckles, faded in winter. His torso was slender and Keith allowed his hands to roam freely up and down his back and chest. Anderson wasn't completely passive, he worked on the buttons to Keith's shirt, his sports jacket already disposed of, running his hands through the chest hair that lay there. Anderson had little or no chest hair, an accident of genetics, not shaving, Keith could tell, his arms were nearly hairless too, or so light and downy that it didn't show up. Not at all like Keith's hairy, ape like arms.

He slipped his shirt off and moved to get Anderson's pants off. They slid over boxer-briefs easily and Keith had to applaud the other's foresight in taking off his shoes and socks first. It was awkward to have sex with only socks on. Keith quickly divested himself of both his shoes and socks and pants, smirking at Anderson's disappointed look.

Keith didn't allow that to last long. He sat on his bed and pulled Anderson to stand between his knees. He let his hands run up and down, through the dip between buttocks and back, over hard, but small cheeks, down muscular sparsely haired thighs. The other man was breathing deeply, practically shuddering under his hands. He leaned forward and nipped at a little loose skin at Anderson's side.

He whimpered. And just like that, all Keith's idea of a slow evening in bed went flying out the window. He grasped Anderson's waist firmly and hauled him, in a move not unlike some kind of wrestling toss, onto the bed. In the same moment, he loomed above the startled anchor, smirking.

"That was about the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he said in his growly sexy voice. Anderson shuddered, just like Keith wanted him to, and closed his eyes.

"It's kind of embarrassing."

"Only if someone is crazy," Keith said before kissing the other man into silence.

Keith then spent the rest of the evening trying to elicit that sound again. Turned out he didn't have to try very hard.

*****

"Hmm, sensitive spot," Keith murmured as he once again bit down on the skin between Anderson's groin and thigh. Anderson whimpered again and let his hand rest on Keith's head, combing his fingers through locks free of hair gel. His dick was practically leaning towards Keith in an effort to get in his mouth and Keith was chuckling, the vibrations so heady that Anderson couldn't even let loose an embarrassing whimper. He tried to regain control of himself only to double up in pleasure as his cock was taken into Keith's hot, wet, mouth.

"Oh _fuck, yes_," Anderson moaned and his other hand, formerly clutching the sheets, came to rest with its mate on Keith's head. Keith only chuckled again and Anderson could feel precum practically shooting from his dick. Keith "mmmmed" at the taste and Anderson let one hand trail down his shoulder, short nails digging in.

"Keith, God, gonna--" he gasped as Keith swallowed multiple times and everything in his body tensed and fell into one spot. He came hard, whimpering almost nonstop as Keith's throat didn't stop convulsing around him.

When Anderson was aware again Keith was lounging on an elbow next to him looking as smug as he ever did on camera. Perhaps more so. Anderson blushed and gave him a real smile that turned the smug smirk into something more genuine. Anderson pushed Keith onto his back and ran a hand down through his chest hair again. Anderson was finding that he had quite a thing for Keith's chest hair. He played with Keith's nipples, with hands and tongue, listening to the groans and growls. Unlike Anderson's, every sound that Keith made reminded him that he was a man. It turned him on so much that he actually had to take a breath and calm himself down.

"Can I fuck you?" Keith asked as Anderson finally stopped tormenting him.

"Oh, God, yes," Anderson replied immediately. Keith was, to say the least, well-endowed. His erection was practically dragged down by its weight, but Anderson wasn't at all deterred. To put it bluntly: he liked big dicks.

He decided that Keith deserved a little reward for the blowjob, even if he had wrung every last whimper out of Anderson. He retrieved the lube and condoms and sat back on his haunches. Catching Keith's eyes he opened the lube and slicked his fingers. He was confident he could do this with no problems and so, still caught in Keith's gaze, he stretched himself with two fingers. His eyelids fluttered. It had been far too long since he'd done this. Had it really been three years since he'd done this? He quickly moved on to a third finger, knowing he needed at least four to take Keith after so long. Looking at Keith again the other man was flushed and sweating, hand pulling lightly at his dick, watching the hand he couldn't see and the expressions on Anderson's face.

The fourth finger was only for comfort's sake, when it entered easily and caused him no discomfort he knew he was ready. He handed the condom to Keith to rip open and put on himself. Anderson slicked him up with the lube left on his hand and then sat on his knees, guiding Keith into him, his other hand's nails digging into Keith's chest. Keith's hands were holding, but not pushing, Anderson's hips and as he lowered himself further his eyes fluttered shut. Anderson watched him struggle for control as he struggled with his own, newly aroused.

"Now?" he whispered after sitting there for a moment. Keith could only nod and open his eyes with a deep breath.

They breathed together, rising on an inhale and exhaling on the downstroke. As their speed increased and their voices remained silent, Anderson began to get lightheaded. Finally, with a cry as his prostate was hit particularly hard, he let his breath out of the sync and began crying out nearly continuously. It had been too long. Far too long. And that it was Keith Olbermann fucking him, making him feel like the most sexual creature on Earth, was even better, and the lightheadedness that he had banished moments before began returning.

Keith was like an animal beneath him, grunting and shoving himself into Anderson like there was something he was trying to win. Anderson would be glad to give him a medal or a fucking trophy at the end. His hands gripped tighter and tighter on Anderson's hips, now controlling the movement more than Anderson. Anderson couldn't function and Keith growled and toppled them over, so Anderson was on his back. He reentered Anderson, the both of them crying out from the feeling and the pace was faster now and harder. Anderson finally worked a hand between them and grabbed his own aching dick.

"Keith!" he cried out as he wrung his second orgasm in only a handful of strokes. The other man was moaning low and rough and his thrusts were becoming ragged, even Anderson could tell through the haze of aftermath and continued pleasure. Keith was relentless, and his strokes were pounding Anderson's prostate, it was nearly too much to bear.

A few strokes later Keith let out a ragged, low cry and collapsed on top of Anderson, held up only by weak forearms. Anderson helped him pull out and guided him to the side, pressing himself close even as Keith regained his brain and disposed of the condom. He gathered Anderson close, despite the mess and they laid in bliss, allowing heart rates to slow and sweat to dry.

"I hope you know that I plan to make this a regular thing. There's no way I'm missing out on those whimpers."


End file.
